


Flight 1521 to Insomnia

by ItsAlwaysBloodMagic



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Airport AU, Awkward Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, fake dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 18:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13981059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAlwaysBloodMagic/pseuds/ItsAlwaysBloodMagic
Summary: Attention all passengers: Flight 1521 to Insomnia, currently scheduled to depart at 4:15pm, has been delayed due to weather systems in the southeast.  The estimated departure time is now 6:28pm at gate D6.  Attention all passengers: Flight 1521 to Insomnia, currently scheduled to depart at 4:15pm, has been delayed…Or: How quickly can two dorks fall in love?





	Flight 1521 to Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Promptis White Day 2018. Prompt: Fake Dates
> 
> [Come find me on Tumblr!](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)

_Attention all passengers: Flight 1521 to Insomnia, currently scheduled to depart at 4:15pm, has been delayed due to weather systems in the southeast. The estimated departure time is now 6:28pm at gate D6. Attention all passengers: Flight 1521 to Insomnia, currently scheduled to depart at 4:15pm, has been delayed…_

Noctis only registered the announcement when an elbow dug into his side. "Hey Princess," Gladio said. "Hope you like vinyl, because you and your hamstrings just got two bonus hours of bonding time with that chair." He let out a deep belly laugh at his own joke.

A string of creative curse words came from Noctis. They were directed at his phone, where three pixelated avatars faced off against a crème brulee. "Gods damnit, Gladio, pay attention. You should’ve blocked that last attack."

Ignis was sitting on Noctis’ left. He cast his gaze around sharply, evaluating the need to do damage control in light of Noctis’ colorful choice of words. "Highness," he hissed. "We are here to improve your public image, not make it worse. If you could refrain from --" 

Another avatar fell. "Ignis, c’mon! You guys, just… ugh!"

"You brought this on yourself," Ignis replied, but he was smiling. "Another round, then?"

"Nah." Noctis turned his phone off and slipped it into the pocket. "I’m gonna take a walk. You two find some corner to go make out in or something."

A deep blush crossed Ignis’ face and Gladio focused his gaze studiously to one side. "Perhaps you should have a chaperone," Ignis suggested, when he had recovered enough to speak without choking.

Noctis waved a hand in dismissal. "I’ll be fine. There’s Crownsguard stationed all over the airport." It was true. They were plainclothed, but easy enough to spot if you knew what to look for. A skull, small and unobtrusive, somewhere on their person; a communication chip in one ear. 

Ignis nodded. "Very well. Try not to get into too much trouble." There was a lilt to his voice that suggested gentle laughter.

"Maybe find some extra trouble for me," Gladio added with a wink. The two of them stood in tandem, linked hands, and wandered off. They had been doing a lot of that lately, familiarity bleeding into how they moved through the world. Noctis was happy for them, for the most part. But… well, in a way it was like they had found respite from him, and he couldn’t help the way his heart twinged when he saw them together. Whatever. Noctis was good at brooding, but he was pretty sick of brooding about this. He needed a distraction. Maybe the airport had an arcade or something. 

_____

There was no arcade.

"What kind of airport is this? " he mumbled to himself. What kind of – public building didn’t have an arcade in it? There was some sort of requirement, right? For airports to have arcades? 

To be fair, he had never flown commercial before. Why would he when he had the royal fleet at his disposal? The short answer, of course, was Ignis. The trip was a publicity stunt, really. A coming-of-age debut for everybody’s favorite prince. 'You have grown quite accomplished at currying favor with your peers,' Ignis had told him, by which he meant 'thank the Astrals you finally learned the finer points of diplomacy; we were afraid we would have to start sending you to state dinners with a paper bag over your head'. There was another side to the veiled critique, and surprise! it was a more direct critique: 'Your reputation with the general populace, on the other hand, could use some work. Really, Noctis. You know how to smile.' So here he was, flying first class in a commercial airline, posing for photo ops that mostly consisted of shaking hands and kissing babies. Noctis’ hands were raw from washing them with industrial soap. It’s not that he had a germ phobia, exactly. It’s just that he knew for a fact that most epidemics could be traced back to air travel.

At least the photographer was cute. Distant, unattainable, most definitely out of Noctis’ league, but cute. 

He had a sort of natural flirtiness about him that worked on Noctis. During a shoot he would grin and wink and give out compliments like candy; Noct’s suit was so sharp, his eyes so striking when he made that face, and wow, he should wear his hair like that every day. Never mind that he had just as much to say about the lighting, or the babies with their pinchable cheeks, or really anything else that happened to be caught by his lens. The man was captivating. He was constantly in motion, and when he wasn’t tapping out a beat, he was humming under his breath or pacing the room or gesticulating for reasons Noctis couldn’t follow. He was, in many ways, the exact opposite of Noctis, the kind of person that should get on his nerves. He didn’t, and whatever he was doing to Noctis had Gladio teasing incessantly and Ignis finding excuses to extend the guy’s contract. 

Not that Noctis was complaining.

He passed his fourth airport bar of the day, because apparently the secret to flying was that everybody got drunk on fifteen-dollar cocktails before boarding their plane. The bar was marked as being a separate entity from the sushi restaurant to its right by clashing terribly with its décor. The color scheme was black, with teal and salmon highlights. Super tacky, no question about it.

And speak of the devil; there, at the bar, was a familiar shock of blond hair. The guy was pretty much impossible to pin down. Noctis kept trying to catch him after shoots, but he was always either fiddling with his equipment or moving on to wherever he went when he wasn’t in Noctis’ direct line of view. He had managed eye contact exactly once, from across the room. He’d gotten a shy smile for his efforts, and then the man was gone. 

It was like trying to catch a moonbeam. And to hell with it, this was his chance.

He sidled up to the bar, easing his way onto yet another uncomfortable vinyl seat with a grimace, this one in the shape of a barstool. Blondie – he had some unusual name, Promptis, or Promnis… Prom-something, at least – had the bartender engaged in a story. He was punctuating his words with well-timed sound effects, and his elbows were everywhere at once, because apparently sound effects required arm-waving to be interpreted properly.

"And then – bam! Just like that, he was on the ground." One of those elbows caught Noctis in the side. "Oh, sorry dude, didn’t see you." Prom – Noctis was just gonna call him Prom, it was less awkward than asking, or Gods forbid getting it wrong – turned toward him. Which meant Noctis got front-row seats to the sight of his face as it turned from Excited Storyteller to Mortified Commoner in about three seconds flat. "Oh, fuck – Uh, shit – Your Highness, Sir - I’m sorry. Um. " Prom paused, brow furrowing. "This isn’t gonna get any better, is it?" 

The whole performance was topped off with an apologetic and altogether too charming grin.

Noctis smirked. "Kinda doubt it." He elbowed Prom gently. "But look, now we’re even."

"Okay? I mean, I don’t understand, but I’ll take it?" The whole sentence came out in a squeak, and damnit, Noctis was smitten. Prom turned to the bartender. "Sorry to cut the story short, but you kinda gotta do that when the prince of the entire freaking country sits down next to you, and then you elbow him in the ribs, and you basically curse him out because you have no chill, and --"

"-- and it’s really fine," Noctis finished for him. The guy looked like he was afraid of ending up in a dungeon, and honestly Noctis wasn’t in the mood for all the holy-shit-I’m-talking-to-the-prince-of-Lucis vibes he was getting. He sighed and resisted the urge to rest his head on the bar. Maybe he should have taken a nap instead of a walk.

Right on cue, Prom spoke up. "You’re not gonna throw me in the dungeon are you?" He laughed nervously. "I mean, I guess I’m digging the hole deeper here, like admitting guilt, but I did just _attack a prince_ and, well, I have my career to think about, and my dogs – I mean, I don’t have any pets yet, but I will someday, and they’ll probably be dogs --"

"Prom. Chill." 

That stopped him in his tracks. "Pro – Prom?"

"C’mon, embrace the nickname. It was bestowed on you by a verifiable prince, which more or less makes you a knight." Noctis patted himself on the back for successfully hiding the fact that he didn’t know the guy’s full name. He leaned into Prom’s side, bumping their shoulders together. Prom jumped in response, which was cuter than it had any right to be, so Noctis did it again. They lingered there, shoulders touching. It felt natural, like they’d known each other for years and casual touch was just a thing that they did. Which… really wasn’t a thing for Noctis, unless he was sleeping, in which case all bets were off. 

So there was that.

"Um." Prom said. He cleared his throat. "Chill, huh? I can do that. So…" He paused and scratched his head, tousling his hair. Noctis’ heart did exactly three backflips, seemingly out of nowhere.

Oh.

That was why Gladio kept teasing him.

"…what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

Noctis blinked. "Really?" he asked.

"I know, that was terrible." Prom pulled on a sleeve cuff and smiled again. Noctis felt himself wondering just how many variations on smiles there were in the world, and whether this beautiful man studied smiling for a living, because clearly photography was some sort of front. "Let’s start over. Hey there, Prince Noctis!" A hand landed on his shoulder blade, just a little too hard.

"Huh?" 

_Huh._ Smooth. Ignis would be so proud.

Prom raised a fist, the universal symbol for fist-bump. Noctis met him. It landed a little sideways, so they settled for an awkward half-handshake. Warmth travelled up Noctis’ arm, through his chest, and clear to his cheeks. "Uh," he said. Ugh. Why didn’t they teach flirting in his etiquette lessons? 

Thank the Astrals that Prom just ignored his awkwardness. "I’m Prompto, nice to meet you!" he exclaimed, as though they were meeting for the very first time. His knee jiggled and his fingers twitched when he released Noctis’ hand, and this time the smile was pure sunlight. 

Noctis ducked his head to hide the blush that was becoming harder and harder to deny. He eyed Prompto through his bangs, then shook himself and squared his shoulders. "Don’t I know you?" he asked in mock-seriousness. 

And look at that; at least some part of him knew what he was doing, because he was looking Prompto up and down, taking in his cheekbones and his lips and those damn freckles and the collar bone sticking out from where his shirt was unbuttoned. _Shit,_ he thought. _I’m really gay, aren’t I?_ Like he hadn’t known the answer to that for exactly ten thousand years. 

"Oh!" Prompto said, and he was back to his hair. That hand-in-hair thing was going to kill Noctis, he was sure of it. Assassination by cute blond boy. Ignis would seek revenge, his father would make that Very Serious Face he was always making, and Gladio would just stand with his arms crossed over his chest and laugh about the whole thing. Prompto giggled, more shy than anxious, and leaned forward, locking eyes with Noctis. Damn. Those eyes plus the hair, and he was dead twice.

He couldn’t help it – he waited until Prompto was distracted, then slapped him hard on the back. He got a "hey!" before Prompto’s giggles devolved into full-body laughter. "I don’t think princes are supposed to attack commoners," he wheezed.

"Revenge," Noctis said. "It’s like – political maneuvering."

"Oh yeah?" A foot brushed his under the table. "What’s the end goal, then?"

Wait. Hold the phone. Prompto was – the foot found his again, worked its way under the hem of his pants. Yeah, that was definitely flirting. The tip-off - besides, you know, his ankle being felt up - was the way Prompto was biting his lip. And batting his lashes, which should not be having the effect on Noctis that it was.

"You know," Prompto said, drawing out the words, "this kinda feels like a date."

A million things happened in Noctis’ mind. There was a cacophony of sound; cheering and whistles and that noise that the paper thing you blow into at parties makes, and for some reason a siren to top it all off. It was like he’d hit the jackpot at the arcade and tickets were spilling out of the machine. Noctis did his best to act like a normal guy that was super used to being flirted with. "You sure about that?" he said. 

Prompto’s face fell. Oh no. Time to backpedal. "I don’t mean - it’s just that…" he made help-me eyes at the bartender, who jerked his head toward the bottles behind him. Noctis stared at him quizzically. The bartender sighed and rolled his eyes before making the universal symbol for money with his hands, pointing at Prompto, then nodding at the bottles again.

"…if this was a date, you’d be buying me a drink."

 _Outstanding, Noct,_ Ignis’ voice intoned in his head. And yes, that was sarcasm. 

"What?" Prompto said, looking confused. "Did you just – dude, that is not how you pick a guy up." 

The bartender covered his face with his palm and shook his head. Noctis died a little inside.

"Right. Well. Now that you know how much I suck at this," and Noctis hated the self-deprecating edge that crept in, because it wasn’t like he got many opportunities to flirt, "I mean," he stopped, frustrated with himself. It was getting a little too real in here. He glowered at the table.

"Hey," Prompto said, voice gentle. He nudged Noctis with his shoulder, like they’d done earlier, because apparently that was a thing they did now. "It’s no big deal, remember? You wanna try again?" 

"Nah. I should go." 

Noctis prepared to stand. A hand came to rest on his arm, and it held on tight. "Nuh-uh. No way. Not after I finally worked up the nerve to talk to you. You have no idea how hard that was for me. I mean, you manage to make slouching look suave, and you have that thing you do with the corner of your lips – yeah, that thing – and – mmph." Prompto stopped. He really didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, since Noctis had made a split-second decision to do something else with his lips.

And wow, Noctis really didn’t plan that, which meant he really, really wasn’t prepared for it. It shouldn’t have surprised him when his heart leapt into his throat the minute their mouths crashed together. Why, then, did it feel like such a big deal? He retraced his steps. Prompto said – and he had – and they were – Yeah, overwhelmed.

He opened his eyes, which was maybe a bad idea, because Prompto was wide-eyed and staring, face frozen in pure surprise, and not exactly kissing him back, but not _not_ kissing him back either. He wasn’t sure who laughed first, but suddenly the kiss was over and they were both doubled over, clutching onto one another and sharing personal space in a way that was equal parts excitement and promises. Prompto had tears running down his cheeks and he settled into sort of leaning his head on Noctis, which served Noctis just fine because it meant he could lean into him and play with his hair, and then he was planting a kiss on Prompto’s temple and –

"Can I kiss you again?"

Prompto pulled back and studied his face, smiling softly. "Yeah," he whispered. "You can kiss me whenever." Noctis leaned forward, still giggling a little, but it was okay because Prompto was giggling too. Their teeth bumped a few times before Prompto’s hand came to rest on Noctis’ jaw, guiding them into something deeper. Their lips barely met before pulling apart and moving back in for more. The kiss didn’t build, exactly, just stayed soft and simmering, hesitant and heartfelt and perfect. Their eyes found each other when they finally parted, and Prompto’s thumb traced his cheekbone.

"Was that – is it always like that?" Noctis asked absently. He should have been embarrassed at the question, but Prompto was looking at him like he was the only person in the universe, and everything was enveloped in a thick soupy fog.

A throat cleared from behind the bar. "You two are cute, but I don’t get paid in kisses, and you," the bartender pointed at Noctis, "need to order if you’re gonna hang out."

"Oh, right. In that case," Noctis smiled sideways at Prompto. "Can I buy you a drink?" 

"Sure," Prompto said. He shook his head, looking dazed. "Wait, isn’t that, like, misuse of taxpayer funds?"

"There’s a line item in the budget for dates."

Prompto snorted. "You asking me out on a date?"

"You taking me up on one?" 

"Thought I already had." The words were shy, and Noctis found himself wondering exactly who this guy was. It was weird – he felt like they had known each other their whole lives, yet here he was getting whiplash from the way Prompto bounced back and forth between awkward and confident.

"Yeah," he said, "okay." He called the bartender over. "What’s your poison?"

And maybe, maybe, he heard Prompto whisper _you_ before leaning forward and placing his drink order. Or maybe it was just the airline employee over the loudspeaker: 

_Attention all passengers, flight 1521 to Insomnia has been cancelled due to inclimate weather. Delays of up to twenty-four hours are expected at this time. Hotel and meal vouchers are available. Attention all passengers, Flight 1521 to Insomnia has been cancelled…_.

"So," Prompto said when he settled back into his seat. His eyes sparkled with mischief. "How many dates do you think we can fit into twenty-four hours?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I love to gush about these boys, so don't be afraid to leave a comment.
> 
> [Come find me on Tumblr too!](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)


End file.
